“Yes,” he answered. Obviously, Elizabeth had some wild times too in her youth.
“I think he was rolling his own joints but without cannabis, and instead using Foxglove,” she said, pointing at a list of side effects of the digitalis. “If they were drinking, partying and then smoking, they wouldn’t notice until it was too late.”
He read the list of side effects of ingesting the plant and thought about how her father had been poisoned with Digitalis.
“Furthermore, come with me.” She took his hand and led him back out to the garden. “We came back from the exhumation, and I came out here. I was beyond pissed that someone trampled through our garden. There were holes, and bare spots, and this morning it occurred to me, there were plants missing. They were all the same kind too.”
“Foxglove?”
“Yes, I think the killer was getting the drug from here.”
“But why from your yard?” Before she could answer, his phone rang. “Come back inside with me!” he demanded, leading her in, as he was unwilling to risk her outside. Checking the ID, he recognized it as the lab. “Hello?”
“Agent Blackhawk, I’ve called four times. Do you want your tox reports, or not?” said the ME, Doctor Christopher Leonard.
“Send them over and if you can, break them down for me now too.”
“Absolutely, Agent. We isolated the food that killed the man. It seems he that ingested Witch’s Glove. It’s also called Dead Man’s Bells.”
Blackhawk listened as he watched his wife, staring at him in anticipation. The name of that flower was tied into the investigation, and he knew it wasn’t a coincidence.
“He ingested a great deal of it. The original ME didn’t test the food in his stomach for drugs. At TOD he had consumed a salad, and it looks like that’s how the killer snuck it in. The leaves wouldn’t have been noticeable.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Please send it,” he said, ending the call.
“Well?”
“Your father ingested the poison. Ever hear of Witch’s Glove, or Dead Man’s Bells? Is that in your garden too?”
“I’ve never heard of it, but I’m a novice at gardening. Abigale was the one that was the obsessed gardener,” she said, taking the tablet from his hand, and searching it.
Then the look on her face said it all.
“What?”
“Yeah I have it in my garden, or should I say I had it. It’s another name for Foxglove.” She looked up. “The killer would lure them in with a promise of fun, smoke some good stuff, and then he would kill them. Then my father somehow consumed it. I need to see the tech photos of the day he died.”
He paused debating on letting her see them, or just telling her what the lab discovered.
“Ethan, I just need to see the one you showed me the other day. Just show me the one of his plate.”
He finally conceded.
Elizabeth blew up the picture of the leaves of the Foxglove, and did the same thing with the pictures he pulled up on his laptop. “Look at the salad! It has the same leaves in it,” she said, pointing.
He already knew that, but he knew she needed to work it through in her mind. If he interrupted her processing she might get sidetracked, and he needed her focused right now.
Elizabeth started pacing as her mind was racing a mile a minute.
Blackhawk knew where this was heading; she had the look he’d seen before. “What do you need?”
“I need the searches you did on my half-brother,” she said quietly. “George lived here too for quite a few years before my dad divorced his mother. The garden belonged to her. I have vivid memories as a teen of coming home, and Abigale had George working out in the flowers. She would spend hours tutoring him on all the different kinds of flowers and their meanings.”
She continued to pace.
“All the victims were drugged by Foxglove, but Sara. George could come here and no one would notice he was around.” She began to feel sick to her stomach that her own blood relative was possibly the killer.
Blackhawk could see all the pieces falling into place for her, the details were coming together into the final picture.
“My father had to have known his killer. Again, there were no signs of struggle and if the killer planted the food in the refrigerator, he’d have to know his habits and how to access the house. My dad wouldn’t think anything of having his son here with him or having him over to eat.”
“Connect it some more for me, baby.” Blackhawk knew she was putting it together and it was only a matter of time. This is why he was the profiler, and she was the one who connected the dots. It was just how her mind worked and his didn’t. Now they were in her area of expertise.
“The night we found the note that told us that my father was dead,” she looked into his eyes. “Did your tech team ever find out how the intruder entered? I know there was never an investigation when my dad died, since his death was initially just a heart attack.”
“No, the team checked all locks and windows, nothing was forcibly accessed.”
“My brother has a key to the house. He had one when my father was still alive.”
“You never got the locks changed?” Blackhawk didn’t like that idea at all. “That would explain why the best tech team couldn’t pull a single piece of evidence of a break in. The killer didn’t have to break in when he only had to walk in.”
“I need to pull those searches apart and dig into them more.”
“I’ll grab them and meet you in your office,” he said. “And Lyzee?”
She turned. “Yes Ethan?”
“Good job,” he said, admiring her mind. He sincerely hoped this wouldn’t be their last assignment together. As a team, they just clicked.
“It’s only a good job if I throw him behind bars, and for now, it’s all speculation.”
“We’re on our way to getting to the hard facts. Let’s build our case together,” he said.
“You're on, Cowboy.”
Elizabeth sat behind her desk with her hair piled on top of her head. She was staring at the information on where all the victims were when they were last seen. By drawing out by memory a picture of the general location and labeling everything, she was trying to build each victim’s last moments of life.
On the map she sketched in the bowling alley, the arcade and ‘The Barrel’. She added where they found their cars and anything that would pinpoint a location as to where the killer may have been watching from.
“What did you find?” he asked, walking in with the printouts from his team’s search on her half-brother.
“Take a look.” Elizabeth passed him the paper that showed them the locations of the girls and where they were last seen. All the red dots were centered on one place, and she doubted it was a coincidence; it was her brother’s place.
The evidence was building.
“It gives us enough to bring him in to talk, it doesn’t give us enough to arrest him,” Blackhawk answered, looking up at her. Elizabeth Blackhawk was like a dog on a meaty bone, she was chewing down to the hard facts.
“He fits the profile. We’re looking for a twenty-something male.”
“Okay, so age fits, sex fits and location is suspicious. I need more.”
“Wait, Doc said he found wood chips, right?”
“Yes, he found them on Sara’s body.”
“My brother does furniture restoration; pine wood is commonly used to repair furniture.”
“I think you're getting closer, Lyzee,” he replied. “I think you’re on target. We need to get him into interview to see if he can be shaken up. Then we might get a search warrant to check his place. Where does he live?”
“I have quite a few acres, and he has a house not far from here.”
“Again, that would make it convenient for him to spy on you here, and get back out of the woods before we can find him.”
“Add in his expertise with the flowers, and I think we have enough for a search warrant. I remember getting them with less.”<
br />
“It can be done.” Blackhawk would use all the pull he could to find a judge who would see the trail. “We need to get him into interview.”
“If we can pull him in, I can make him talk.”
Interviewing her own brother was going to be tricky, it fell back under the ‘conflict of interest’ angle. A defense team would pull it to pieces. “Elizabeth,” he paused, unsure what to say.
“You won’t be able to interview him either then,” she answered not even looking up. “He’s now your brother-in-law.”
Blackhawk was surprised she knew what he was thinking, but then again they always had that connection. “I won’t be. I’m sending him back to Quantico.”
Elizabeth understood. Now she’d have to trust the man she married to get the victims justice.
“I do need you to get him to come to us,” he offered.
“I can call him and see if he will pop in at the station, and then we can grab him there.”
Blackhawk nodded and spoke, “I wish we could call Beatrice, or one of the other workers to confirm the times he was gone, but it’ll spook him. We’re going to have to get him in, and then do it. I’ll have the team ready to move, as soon as we have him.”
Elizabeth dialed his house phone, and it was answered on the third ring by Abigale. Great that was just who she didn’t want to deal with today.
“Abigale, is George there? I need to speak to him.”
There was a pause.
“No, he’s out in the barn working on some furniture. He said he had to finish a table that he was selling today, and not to bother him.”
Elizabeth pondered and then decided. “Okay, tell him to call me back when he gets a chance,” she said.
“What’s it pertaining to?”
“I need him to cater an event for the department,” she said, reaching for any excuse.
“I’ll pass it on,” she answered icily.
“Thanks,” she hung up the phone. Obviously the conversation they had regarding her manners was still fresh in Abigale’s mind. The woman knew how to hold a wicked grudge.
Elizabeth sat thinking and watching her husband, as if weighing the options.
“You have that look on your face again, Lyzee.”
“He’s in his workshop working. I think we should go in quietly. We need to keep it low key and grab him, bringing him in together to finish this.”
Blackhawk weighed his options, if he told his wife he didn’t want her anywhere dangerous it would get ugly, or she would do it anyway. He just trusted that she had been trained as well as he was, and if he were with her she would be safe. The raven crept back into his mind, and he forced it back out. “There has to be a few conditions.”
Elizabeth lifted a brow and stared at him. “Yes?”
“You’re in Kevlar.”
“Agreed, but only if you do the same.” That was an easy one, but she knew he was lulling her with the minor first.
“You don’t leave my side.” He ticked off the second one on his fingers.
“Fine, want to handcuff me to your wrist?”
He gave her the look and she laughed. “I think you’d like that idea, Elizabeth.”
“Look who’s mind is in the gutter now, Cowboy. But to answer your question, I do. I hope that you make it part of the deal.” Elizabeth tried to distract him and lighten his mood.
“We can add the handcuff part in later, and stop trying to make me lose focus. Next, we have backup waiting.”
“If they park around the corner, he won’t see them coming, so deal.”
“Then get your team here and ready. Build your case for the warrant, Sheriff, and make it fast. I want to get him into custody and onto that flight to Quantico before he gets an inkling what is going down.”
He left the room to get some of his FBI people mobilized. There was still a heavy weight on his chest, and it threatened to paralyze him. The giant raven was back on their patio, and it sat staring at him through the glass.
Something was coming, he could feel it.
* * *
Elizabeth briefed her team. Once she relayed to them who they suspected, it caught everyone by surprise. For each deputy, the anger was there as they wanted to nail the man to the wall. He took the life of one of their own, and now he would pay. If her half-brother was guilty, she was going to lock him away for a long time.
Prepping her team wasn’t easy. It was Salem; none of her deputies had ever seen anything like this go down before. Her time in the FBI prepared her for the worst case scenario. Elizabeth made sure they all suited up. Vests were tucked protectively under their shirts, and their minds focused on two things. Bringing in George LaRue and getting themselves home at the end of the night. Everything else, she and her husband would worry about.
In theory, it should be easy in and easy out, bringing him in for transport and questioning. They would have to wait on search warrants for after the interrogation, and then they would play a bigger role. Ethan Blackhawk would let them help his tech team, and she knew he was doing it for closure for all of them and their lost friend.
“Everyone understands their job and role?” she questioned, looking around.
It was now or never.
They all nodded.
“I want everyone to remember that no one plays cowboy-including the Cowboy,” she said, pointing at her husband. “Be ready for anything and watch your backs.” She dismissed them, and walked to her front door. It was time for herself and Blackhawk to vest up too. Checking the inner pocket, she found the vest that she double plated. Cowboy wasn’t walking into this without a little guarantee he’d be coming home.
Blackhawk had prepped his team and had given them the information that they needed. Now he was watching the woman he married carry their vests towards him. Never in his life had he been so nervous about an assignment. Yeah, he got butterflies before, but these were the size of large birds.
Ravens to be exact.
“Time to suit up, love bug.”
“Let me help you first, sweet cheeks,” he said, helping his wife into her body armor, and adjusting the Velcro around her chest.
She did the same for him, assuring herself the Kevlar was in place. The entire time her stomach was a giant knot. Both Blackhawks, despite the heat outside, were pulling on pullovers. It would hide the vests and hopefully not alert George LaRue as to what was going down.
“Ready baby?” he asked, even though he wasn’t. If he could make her stay at home, he would in a heartbeat.
Elizabeth took his face in her hands, uncaring that both their teams stood around them getting ready. “Promise me you’ll do everything in your power to meet me here tonight.” Her voice shook, scared at the possibility she could lose him. In the short time he was hers, Ethan became her everything.
Blackhawk was touched beyond words. No one that he had a relationship with had ever said those words, or wondered if he would make it back. “I’ll be here, Elizabeth. You better make sure you are too.” His heart skipped a beat, and he looked at her lips, debating if he could get away with it.
That slight tell warned her of his plan. “Don’t do it, Cowboy,” she said, laughing, as he pulled her into his arms and dipped her low.
Everyone in the room looked over at their bosses.
“I have to, baby. I’ve decide that you’re my new good luck charm before bringing in the bad guys.” Blackhawk kissed her hard and deep, uncaring that both teams were staring at him. Ethan kissed her like it was his last kiss, and he meant everything he put into it. When he broke away and righted her back to her feet, both teams clapped and whistled for them.
Once standing again, she tossed him his hair tie as she tried to catch her breath. “Next time Cowboy, I will kick your ass,” she drawled and then started laughing, not the least bit embarrassed.
Deep down, he hopped there would be a next time, and he’d willingly let her.
* * *
Blackhawk stopped the Jeep, and he and his wife hopped out, mot
ioning for the rest of the team to block the road. This was the only way in and out. They set up a ready site and waited for their bosses to give them word.
“If this goes bad,” he whispered to his team, “you secure the perimeter and you make sure when entering the building the subject is safe at all costs.” He knew they got the message; he wanted them to assure they’d take care of his wife first and foremost. “Stay safe and keep aware.”
“We got your meaning, Agent Blackhawk. The subject will be secured.”
Back in the Jeep, they pulled casually around the bend. Parking behind her brother’s truck, they both began taking in their surroundings.
“The barn’s out back,” she said, getting ready. She pulled her gun, and checked the clip and chamber, replacing it and looking over at her husband. “Remember your promise, Cowboy.” Elizabeth opened the door, scanning the area. It all looked clear.
“You remember yours, Sheriff.”
They crossed the driveway and up behind the house to the massive barn that her brother had made into a workshop. As they pushed the door open, they noticed there were lights on, but it was silent. Both pulled their handguns and began to enter.
“George, it’s your sister. Where are you?”
“I’m over here,” he answered back. “Working on my new project, you should check it out. I bet you’d appreciate it.”
Elizabeth and Blackhawk walked around the corner, and there was George. He had a gun pointed at Doc’s head, as he stood on a stool with a noose around his throat and blood dripping down his face.
Doc watched them with tired eyes.
“Welcome, Agent Blackhawk and E.L. You’re just in time for the fun.”
“George, what the hell are you doing?” Elizabeth demanded, gun trained on her brother. She watched him step behind Doc, using him as a shield and blocking any possible shots.
“I’m tying up loose ends.”
“Doc, are you okay?” she yelled to the man.
“I am for now, Elizabeth.”
The Killing Times (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 1)) Page 42